I'll Never Let You Go
by Naviana
Summary: Walking away may seem hard, but the hardest part of all is holding on.
1. Chapter 1

_Hermione's POV_

I refused to let the tears fall. He has never seen me cry, and I'll be damned if I let him today. While piling the last few items of clothing and books into my trunk, I willed the tears away, my eyes burning from the effort. I had reached my breaking point. I'd had enough.

Over the past few months, I have been held in this sort of purgatory by fear. I prided myself in my younger years as being strong enough to stand on my own. I survived the war for Merlin's sake! But ever since he became something more to me, something worth holding on to, I knew that I couldn't survive without him. Knowing this made this decision that more difficult. He had to know that I loved him more than my life, but I couldn't handle this situation any longer.

My body trembled uncontrollably with fear as I did a quick mental inventory to check if I had everything. Lifting my eyes quickly, I looked at his lean figure silhouetted in the open window, his back to me. With his hands in the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers, he looked the picture of ease. Had I not known him so well, I would have missed his slight fidgeting and shallow intake of breath, attempting to calm himself down. Our fight had been of epic proportions, and the amount of energy and passion we both put into it, literally ripped us apart.

Tears gathered in my eyes, threatening to spill over my lids. I held them there unwilling to set them free, unwilling to show him that he had gotten the best of me. No, Draco Malfoy would never know exactly how he made me feel. I couldn't, no I _wouldn__'__t_, show him, not now, probably never. If he knew my true feelings, then he'd know that he was my weakness; that he alone could make or break me. And now, he was breaking me into a million tiny fragments.

I banged closed the lid of my trunk with a loud thud and locked it with purpose. Wincing and quickly swiveling around, Draco's eyes fell on the trunk, which contained all of my possessions, as I muttered a quick shrinking spell and stuffed it into my beaded bag. His eyes narrowed. I saw a glimmer in his eyes revealing the many questions that were no doubt swirling around in his mind. But just as quickly it was gone, replaced by his usual mask of indifference. No doubt his questions were about my ability to actually walk out, then why I was leaving. He was well aware of the reasons why.

My legs felt as if they were incased in stone as I began my journey through his flat to the front door. The five second walk seemed to take hours. As I came closer to the front door, the door that I would make sure to shut behind me, the louder my footsteps became. They echoed in my brain asking me if this was the right decision. Was leaving really my goal? Did I have to go?

The answer to those questions still existed in the bedroom with his hands in his pockets. All I needed was for him to prove to me that I was his, only his. I wanted him to make me feel needed, to make me feel like I was a part of his life and not some mere acquaintance. How hard was that for him to understand? How hard was it to understand that I wanted a life with him, one that we could call ours?

My internal questions were met with silence though, and as I turned back toward the door, I felt a slight resistance inside of me stretch like a rubber band. Instead of bouncing back, sooner or later that rubber band would snap; I was sure of it. So, I continued moving forward, my leaden feet reluctantly dragging my body toward the door.

With my vision blurring yet again, I grabbed a hold of the elegant door knob. Holding back the tears became my first priority as I felt the walls of my heart cave in and collapse on themselves. Could it be that I was really making a mistake? Mistakes didn't happen in my book. Everything happened for a reason.

I turned around once more with burning eyes to find the emptiness of his living room. The blue walls, built-in bookshelves and moving pictures on top of the fireplace brought back happy memories of when he first bought this place, and our two-and-a-half week excursion of painting these walls – the Muggle way mind you – Sky Blue, and installing building and installing the bookshelves to house our joint collections, and pictures snapped during that week and at various events.

A single tear fell from my eye onto my cheek. Almost without thinking, I quickly wiped it away with the back of my hand as another one filled my eyes to the brim. I couldn't see anything through the thick tears clinging to my eyelashes.

I would miss him – more than anything. He knew that.

Breathing deeply helped calm down some of the pain burning in my chest. So, I stood with my hand tightly wrapped around the door knob waiting for a sign that I should really be doing this. I'm not a Seer, but I was desperately hoping for something. But, nothing came. _Nothing_. Not even the man who was supposed to love me, who was supposed to be the other half of me; he didn't even bother to come out and stop me. Did he _want_ me to go?

The burning in my chest became hotter as I slowly twisted the knob giving him a chance to come after me, to finally show me that I was a part of his life. But again, no one came to stop me from my mindless oblivion. No one bothered to show me the slightly fidgeting figure in the next room. No one stressed to me the meaning of walking out on someone else. All I could feel was the pain breathing in my chest and the emptiness echoing in my heart as I walked out his front door, down the hallway, and into the lift.

As I stepped into the lift and pressed the ground floor button, I turned with a hopeful heart to the gaping doors that gave a perfect view to flat 12D all the way at the end of the hall. The dam finally broke, and tears streamed down my cheeks flooding my body with sobs when the door closed without one sign of him running to stop me.

I wish he would have stopped me like I should have stopped the tears falling from my eyes.

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	2. Chapter 2

_Draco's POV_

She was walking out – leaving – just like that, like I was nothing to her. Her trunk was packed, shrunk and in her little beaded bag. All I could do was stare, watch, observe as she flatly looked at me. My life was nothing without her, but I couldn't get up the nerve to do anything. I'd lost myself in everything else. I'd forgotten to show her what she meant to me. And she was leaving. _Leaving_.

My heart was beating in my chest, but I felt dead, ashamed. This wasn't like me. Why couldn't I get a hold of myself? I should have done something, anything to stop her, but I didn't. All I could do was stare out of the window at the lake behind my flat, with my back to her. I felt a slight burning sensation behind my eyes, as realized that I wanted, no _needed_, to cry, but my subconscious wouldn't let the tears fall from my eyes. I couldn't let her see me cry. I _wouldn__'__t_.

Because, then she'd know she had gotten the best of me. I had an ego larger than this room, and Granger never missed an opportunity to point it out. My ego had been the catalyst of it all. I was too far in, too far gone, too far away from who I really was to understand exactly what was happening. The only reminder was the pumping in my chest that stung with every step she took through the bedroom.

Hearing a loud thud, I stiffened and jerked my head around to look at her, expecting a reaction upon getting my attention. I wanted her to feel something, anything, but she didn't. She was the same cold Granger she'd always been since the Battle of Hogwarts when so many of those she loved perished. If only I could go back and protect her – maybe send her off to Australia like she did to her parents – I would.

Her feet were heavy as she slowed to a near stop in the doorway of my bedroom – the bedroom I should be calling 'ours' by now. Did she want to stop? Did she not want to go?

Panic began to churn in my stomach when her feet picked up pace, and soon she was out of my view. It slowly gushed into my veins and to my heart shattering it with one quick punch. I closed my eyes as the pain in my chest doubled. Reluctantly, I let the two traitorous tears fall from my eyes.

Why was I letting this happen? Why couldn't I just get up and go after her? What was stopping me?

The creaking of the door set free a torrent of tears down my face, that I hadn't wanted her to see. I shook with each tear. Feeling the release carved out the man I had become, left a raw open wound that bled with regret. She was gone, and all I could do was sit here and let her go.

_I __let __her __go_.

I'd live with that for the rest of my life. I'd feel the pain of her ghost. I'd remember the way her smile brightened the room. I'd remember how my life should have been. I heaved a breath of air as a pathetic choked sob escaped me.

I loved Granger. I loved her more than anything. So, why was I letting her go?

My chest caved in on its self and I felt like I couldn't breathe. The air I inhaled didn't fill my lungs. I gasped as another sob tore from me. My heart felt like it was being ripped out and handed back to me. I didn't want it back. I wanted Granger.

I should have stopped her. I should have turned around and walked through the flat after her. I should have yelled, screamed, sent hexes at the walls. I should have done _something_ to keep her from walking away, but I hadn't. And here I sat with all these regrets spinning inside of my head waiting for her to return.

The sound of the door shutting snapped my attention up. She was gone.

In a moment, the man I was and the man I used to be merged into the man I was supposed to be, giving me enough courage to turn around and run. I couldn't let her go. I would never let her go. My feet carried me through the flat and to the front door. I grabbed the door knob, but stopped as my eyes caught the Sky Blue walls.

A small smirk broke through the sadness on my face. Picking out this Muggle paint with Granger had been one of my favorite memories, even though I never shared that information with her. She insisted on painting the Muggle way, much to my chagrin. By the end of our two-and-a-half week excursion, we had many mishaps with paint ending up in the most random of places on our bodies, installed the built-ins, and taken loads of pictures, many of which were currently on the fireplace mantel. One in particular stood out to me, my favorite. It was of Granger and she was deep in thought, no doubt over-thinking the positioning of one of the shelves. I had snapped the photo without her knowledge and in that moment, all doubt, fear and harshness was gone from her face.

This was her favorite room. Granger was this room; she was built into the foundation. She was the soul behind the cheery Sky Blue walls and the dark bamboo wood floors. She was light and dark, quiet and loud, soft and hard.

I swung the door open. The beeping of the lift doors shutting caused my feet to push me out of the flat and into the bright and airy hallway.

I wasn't going to let her go.

I ran down the hall to the stairwell doors next to the lift. If I couldn't stop the lift, I'd just have to beat it. I would have disapparated, but I did not know where she was going. It took everything I had inside of me to run down the steps – sometimes taking them two at a time, thank Merlin for all of the years I spent training for Quidditch. I had to get to her. I had to stop her before she was gone.

The thought of a life without her caused the panic embers to blaze. My body was suddenly on fire as panic fueled it. Tears burned the corners of my eyes, but I had no time to stop. I didn't have time to think. All I could do was run as fast, as hard, as quickly as I could. I had to find her. I had to prove to her that I wanted this, that I needed this, that I needed _her_.

Flinging the door at the ground floor open, I watched her walk through the glass doors of my building. Her shoulders sagged and her chest heaved. It couldn't be? Was Granger….crying?

I'd never seen or heard Granger cry before. My beating heart stopped as the realization flooded me. I had hurt her. _I__hurt__her_. I swallowed the lump in my throat, fanned back the panic, and ran.

It didn't matter if I had hurt her, because I would fix it. I'd fix everything. I wasn't going to let her go. She couldn't go. She was my life, my heart, my soul. Granger was everything and anything to me. My world was hers and her world was mine. We'd forever share an eternity together, because that's what she deserved. She deserved happiness. She deserved a happy ending.

* * *

><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	3. Chapter 3

_Draco's POV_

People crowed the lobby of the ground floor making it damn near impossible to gain access to the front door. It was times like this that made me want to live somewhere with more vacancy. But, I had no time to debate my choice of flats. Time was of the essence. I had to get to Granger. I had to stop her before she was too far gone.

So, I ran. I pushed people out of my way with a flick of my wrist. I spun on my heels avoiding baby carriages, and I dodged three year olds with baby dolls. Skidding to a halt as I slid out of the revolving door, I looked left and then right only to see mobs of people walking, talking, laughing, and smiling.

"Mr. Malfoy," the doorman approached me. I was in such a panic that I didn't even cringe at the name as a usually did. "She went that way." He pointed to my left.

I nodded my head. Without thanking him, I darted down the sidewalk making my way through the faceless crowd of Diagon Alley only to find the one face I was anxiously looking for at the corner. I saw long, brown bushy hair and a slender wrist as Granger adjusted her beaded bag on her shoulder.

My feet pressed into the cobblestone sidewalk and launched me toward her. I focused on her bushy chestnut locks, and her tiny body heaving in sadness. In my chest, my heart began to rattle as it cracked and distorted with the sight of Granger's sadness. Her sadness was my sadness, now. I could feel her tears dripping down my face.

I reached my hand up to my cheek and wiped away the tears.

She adjusted her bag again completely unaware of my proximity. My eyes caught the sign of The Leaky Cauldron, and I realized that was her destination, she was mere meters from the door. Probably to get a room because she thought she no longer had one to return to. The panic blaze burning in my veins exploded like a nuclear bomb.

"Hermione!" I screamed. Her body froze, but I caught the slight gasp escape her chest.

Granger turned. Her red crying eyes spotted my own through the masses of people. For a moment, time stopped and my world shattered as I watched the tears of pain, regret, and fear leak out of her chocolate brown eyes. They dripped from her chin and onto the cold, hard sidewalk beneath my feet. Watching her cry, seeing her tears, flooded my eyes with my own. I lunged forward and wrapped her up in my arms.

"Please." I buried my face in her hair, inhaling her cinnamon scent.

Granger reluctantly pushed against me. I pulled back only to find her own insecurities written across her face.

"Stop," her voice spoke barely above a whisper. "It's too late."

The bleeding wound in my chest gapped open. She turned her back to me, and took a step toward the door in front of her. But I wasn't going out like this. I couldn't let her go without trying to stop her. I had to stop her.

I grabbed her arm firmly and spun her around to face me. I yanked the bag from her hands – not caring who saw me or how hard I had jerked. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she knew how I felt, that she knew I was trying, that she knew I wanted this. _I__wanted__her_.

"No, it's not." Firmly, the words parted my lips.

Cupping her cheeks gently in the palms of my hands, I gazed deeply into her puffy red eyes only to feel my heart breaking more. I knew I was the cause of her tears. I never wanted to see her cry again. I swallowed thickly as her tears acted like magnets pulling my own out of the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks.

"Yes, it is." she tried to assure me I was too late, but I knew I wasn't. It was never too late.

"No, it's not." I whispered feeling her resistance to me being in front of her, watching her cry, fade away.

Granger blinked as her hand lifted up and grasped mine. Her mouth parted as a sob escaped her perfect lips. "Draco."

The way she cried my name, the tears pouring from her eyes, the pain she felt – it all exploded from me in my own silent sob that only she heard. "Hermione."

"Hold on to me."

Tears dripped from her eyes like rain drops during a midsummer's day thunderstorm. I pressed my forehead to hers and squeezed her cheeks with my hands.

"I'll never let you go, 'Mione. Never."

The words poured from my lips in the most truthful statement I'd ever spoken. Through her eyes, I saw my reflection. It was the reflection of a man who had been brought to his breaking point. It was the reflection of someone who had learned his lesson. It was the reflection of the man I'd always wanted to be and I had this beautifully woman to thank for that.

Silently and with all the love I held inside for her, I opened the door to my heart and kissed her tear stained lips.

"I'll never let you go."

* * *

><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


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